A Mug of Hot Chocolate
by Hesta's Journal
Summary: Rose turns up on her grandmother's door after having a row with her parents over her choice of boyfriend.


**Title: _A Mug of Hot Chocolate_**

**Author: _Hesta's Journal_**

**Word Count: _3445 (not including the dates ^^)_**

**Type of Story: _Oneshot_**

**Summary: _Rose turns up on her grandmother's door after having a row with her parents over her choice of boyfriend._**

**Disclaimer: If Harry Potter, and the universe associated with it, belonged to me I would have made Hermione go back in time and fall in love with Tom Riddle Jr., I would make Ron marry Lavender, Fred wouldn't have died and would be living happily with Angelina whereas George would be with either Alicia or Katie, Lee Jordan would have a much bigger role, Sirius Black would have survived and gotten happily married (preferably to a Muggle or Muggle-born to spite his parents), and there would be baby Hedwigs all over the place. Oh, and Hagrid and Madame Maxime would have giant babies. Good thing I don't own Harry Potter, eh?**

* * *

**21st December 2022**

"Lord Almighty!" Jean Granger exclaimed in shock, staring at the drenched and shivering figure standing on her doorstep. Rose had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, although her eyes sparkled defensively.

"I'm really sorry, Gran," Rose mumbled apologetically, shifting from foot to foot as she tried to warm herself. A chilly breeze blew relentlessly on one side of her body, and she shuddered more violently than before. She rubbed her hands together in a vain effort to keep herself from shivering.

The older woman shook her head in despair at her eldest grandchild and ushered her in. "Well, don't just stand there, Rosie. You're going to freeze to death. I thought you were meant to be a witch? Don't they teach you how to keep warm at Hogwarts?"

Rose gratefully stepped into the warm house, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. "They do, Gran, but I'm underage. If I used any magic then they'd find me and I'd get into trouble."

Her grandmother rolled her eyes before disappearing from the main hall for a few minutes. When she returned, she was carrying a warm, fluffy towel, which she handed to her granddaughter. "How about using common sense for a change then? You should have at least brought a waterproof jacket or umbrella. This is England, sweetheart, and it does have a tendency to get cold at nights. Especially when it's nearing Christmas time."

At the disapproving look sent to her by the other woman, Rose closed her eyes and instead focussed on trying to dry herself. She couldn't help a small murmur of protest at her grandmother's words, though. "It was unexpected. I just... I guess I kind of lost it."

Curiosity adding to the worry that her granddaughter would catch a cold, the older woman led the girl into the small sitting room, where a fire was glowing in the hearth, smoke curling upwards into the chimney. She wrapped Rose's towel around the girl before sitting her down on an armchair and then disappearing from the room again, leaving Rose to glare mutinously at the fireplace.

Tilly, her grandmother's beagle, wandered over to examine the red-haired girl curiously. When Rose patted the dog with a wet hand, Tilly decided that the girl wasn't worth the trouble and made her way back over to the warmth of the fire, hoping to dry her slightly damp head and casting Rose a reproachful look over her shoulder.

"Hey, you're the one who approached _me_," Rose said, rolling her eyes at the beagle. Tilly merely decided ignorance was the best punishment and trained her eyes determinedly on the fire. "Okay, so now _everyone_'s pissed off at me. Even the dog."

Jean Granger entered the room again, some dry clothes in one hand and a mug of something warm in the other. Rose smiled faintly as she realised that, no matter how different Granny Weasley and Grandma Granger were usually, there were some things - such as motherliness - that just seemed to come to them naturally.

"Now, Rosie, I've got some hot chocolate for you and some dry clothes. They used to be your mother's, I think. When she moved out she left a lot of stuff behind, and I kept them - you never know when a set of clean, _dry_ clothes might come in handy," her grandmother eyed her with a reproving look as she handed her granddaughter the clothes and placed the mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of them. "Now, go and get changed. I don't want you making any more wet patches on my armchairs."

Rose smiled gratefully at her as she rose from the armchair and, gripping the towel and the dry clothes in her hands, made her way out of the room and to the nearest bathroom. She wasn't surprised to see the general, amiable clutter that filled the rooms she passed on her way. Even the bathroom was full of all sorts of odds and ends. Worn bathrobes and slippers, little porcelain shepherds and shepherdesses, clay figurines and glass vases filled with sweet scented flowers. Unlit candles were stuffed into every available nook and cranny. Rose was amazed at how her grandmother had managed to fit everything in. She knew that her grandfather had been the one who had reigned his wife in and kept the mishmash to a minimum, and since his death several years ago the clutter had been steadily growing - her grandmother loved to collect objects and hated to throw anything away.

She pulled on the simple brown trousers and pale blue jumper. The trousers were several inches too short for her - she was taller than her mother - but otherwise the clothes fit relatively well. Rose gathered her hair up, wrapping the towel around her dark red hair. She placed her wet clothes on the radiator to dry alongside some towels that were already hanging there, and then slipped out of the bathroom.

Rose stepped tentatively into the sitting room and made her way over to the sofa where her grandmother was now sitting - the one Rose had been sitting on previously still had dark, wet patches scattered randomly all over it. She picked up the mug of hot chocolate and sipped at it, pleased with the feeling of the warm liquid slipping down her throat and warming her.

Her grandmother gazed at her with sharp brown eyes - eyes that both Hermione and Rose had inherited. "Now, do you want to tell me why you turned up wet on my doorstep without any warning?"

Rose wrapped her hands more tightly about the mug of hot chocolate, eyes darkening slightly as she remembered the events of the night. "Dad pissed me off."

"Doesn't sound like the kind of thing to make you walk out of your home," the woman's eyebrows were raised questioningly, her right hand stirring a teaspoon around her own mug of hot chocolate. She had a strangely comforting air about her, the air that made Rose feel she could tell her anything and all Jean would do was listen patiently and offer sound advice - like she had always done whenever Rose had had a problem and didn't want to talk to her parents about it.

"No, it wasn't. Not normally. It's just...," Rose sighed, putting down her hot chocolate and rubbing her forehead with her hands. "Basically, I got a boyfriend in October and I didn't tell Dad or Mum about it. And I made Hugo and everyone promise not to tell, but you know how it is with our family. Somebody said something and so when Dad and Mum picked us up for the holidays, they were kind of angry at me."

"Why didn't you just tell them? You've had boyfriends before, honey," Grandma pointed out before leaning forwards and beckoning Tilly over to her. Tail wagging, the dog rose up from her place in front of the fire to join the woman and her granddaughter.

Rose's eyes opened a crack as she wondered whether she should have more hot chocolate. Deciding against it in favour of telling her story, she continued irritatedly. "I know, but... did Mum ever mention the Malfoys to you?"

"Might have, I'm not sure."

"Well, anyway, they're this family that Dad and Mum don't really like. The father did really horrible things in the War and his son wasn't such a nice piece of work, either, apparently. My parents aren't very fond of them and it all gets kind of personal," Rose treaded carefully, not sure how much her mother had told Grandma about the events of the war and what had happened in Malfoy Manor. "And they found out that my boyfriend was... well... he's the grandson of the guy who did horrible things in the war and..."

"Yes?" her grandmother's eyes were patient, encouraging.

"Well, you know Dad... he got a bit angry and I could see that even Mum was angry, although I think she was more upset that I hadn't told her I had a boyfriend rather than that my boyfriend was a Malfoy. And Dad started saying... things -" _how could you, Rose! Do you know what that family has done! The apple never falls far from the tree! You're not ROMEO AND JULIET! I thought you were smarter than this!_ - "and I think he overreacted a bit... but... and Mum just went all silent on me... I didn't even know what she was thinking, you know?... and she's never gone _silent _one me before... and Dad was going all red and shouting and I don't think I've seen him this mad at me since that time I ate half of Grandad Weasley's birthday cake when I was five... I mean, I knew Dad wasn't going to throw things around or anything, but I hate it when Dad gets angry and it makes me angry because this time it was over something so _stupid_...," the words started pouring out of her mouth, an irate, jumbled mess of words full of defiance, hurt and anger. "So I ran upstairs and grabbed some Muggle money and then left. I caught a taxi here and um... yeah..."

"Is he nice?" her grandmother said unexpectedly, as Rose sank back into the sofa and groaned in misery at her life. When Rose opened her eyes, she saw a faintly amused yet puzzled look on her grandmother's face.

Rose's mouth opened and closed several times before she said stupidly. "Who?"

"Your boyfriend, silly. What's his name? Is he good-looking?" a small smile was on the older woman's face as she stroked the beagle absentmindedly.

"I... um... his name's Scorpius," at her grandmother's raised eyebrows, Rose hastily continued. "I know it's a strange name but his family are a bit posh, you know? Anyway... he's nice... well, more than nice, actually. He's really funny and has an amazing sense of humour. Sometimes he's a bit arrogant, but normally he's quite good at not boasting about how clever he is... because, Gran, he's _really_ clever. Cleverer than me by miles. And he's a bit snarky sometimes when he doesn't get his way, but he's much better than he was back in first-year and he's normally quite mature now. There was this one time that he actually _gave me his jacket _because it was cold and he was wearing a t-shirt and it was freezing and so stupid of him and I said no because I didn't want him to freeze to death but it's the thought that counts. And he knows what I like and what I don't like, although sometimes he does things I don't like just because he can... I don't know how to explain that and it _does_ piss me off sometimes but I feel so comfortable around him... he's like... oh, I don't know... and he is quite good-looking. Not movie-star good-looking but he's got a friendly face, if you know what I mean?"

Her grandmother eyed the girl carefully, as though searching for something. Then she broke out into a warm smile, leaning forward to grab Rose's mug of hot chocolate and handing it to her granddaughter. "Here, you better drink this before it gets cold."

"I - thank you," Rose accepted the mug and gulped down its contents greedily. She hadn't realised how much she had been missing when she had chosen not to drink any whilst telling her story.

Jean waited patiently until Rose had finished drinking, the smile never leaving her face. Once she was sure that there was no hot chocolate left in the girl's mug, she said cheerfully. "Well, Rosie, if he's all that you say he is, I don't see why your parents have any problem."

Rose growled irritatedly. "Exactly! It's so stupid! They're judging him for what his dad and grandfather did, not for who he is himself! He's nothing _like_ his father!"

Her grandmother nodded thoughtfully, running her fingers through her dog's fur and ruffling its ears. "Why don't you bring him over to your house, then? Just for a day or two, so that you parents can see what he's like?"

Rose looked taken aback at this suggestion. "Really? Would that work? I don't know if Dad would bother talking to him... Mum might but..."

"Rose," her grandmother began with an air of assuredness. "Was every word that you just said to me about... Scorpius... was it true?"

"Of course it was!" Rose cried indignantly, causing Tilly to lift her head lazily at the outburst.

"Then why don't you try telling your parents that?" before Rose could protest, her grandmother raised her hand to stop her. "No, let me finish, Rosie. Tell your parents how you feel about him. Think it over and frame it a bit more... coherently, maybe. But you have to keep in mind that your parents can't judge him until they meet him. Tell them that. I think you'll find that they aren't nearly as angry as you might think - after all, you have to admit that it must have been a bit of a shock for them. I don't think walking out of the house did you, or them, much good, but it's not too late to go back in and say you're sorry. I know it's a difficult thing to say and sometimes emotions run a bit too high for everyone, but walking out on an argument usually doesn't do much good, in my experience. Your parents are probably worried sick about you, Rosie - you didn't tell them where you were going and it's raining cats and dogs and it's _cold_. You can stay the night here. Your parents still have their phone, don't they? -" Rose nodded - "Good, then I'll ring them and tell them you're going to spend the night here. It means you can have a little more time to think things over."

Rose smiled slightly at her grandmother. "Thanks, Gran... I... that means a lot to me."

They both knew that she wasn't only talking in part about the offer of staying the night. To have someone believe that she and Scorpius _could_ go out together and that there _shouldn't_ be a problem, that it wasn't a stupid thing to do, meant a lot more to Rose than even she realised at that time.

Her grandmother rose from the sofa, picking up the two mugs. She stood there for a moment, as though in thought, before turning to gaze at her granddaughter. "You know, Rosie, sometimes life throws unexpected things at us and we don't always react to it the way we probably should have. Right now, you're probably angry at your parents and they're not going to be too happy with you. But we're all human beings, and we all make mistakes. I don't know if you've noticed, but your parents have - and will - do things they regret and so will you. It might sound like a line borrowed from one of those romantic movies you and your friends watch -" Rose's cheeks took on a slightly red look at the casual remark - "but your parents are still your parents and they'll love you no matter what. You just have to learn to respect that love and to understand that sometimes - not always - they might know better whether what you're doing is good for you or not. It's never a bad idea to put yourself in someone else's shoes for a short while."

Rose opened her mouth to make some sort of a protest. She wasn't sure what she would say, but a part of her wanted to defend herself. Yet, once again, her grandmother merely smiled at her and cut in before Rose could utter a word. "I'd like to meet this Scorpius boy, by the way. He sounds lovely."

And Rose was left staring as her grandmother exited the room. Not for the first time that night - nor would it be the last - she felt a kind of gratitude towards her grandmother that she'd never really felt before.

**25th July 2034**

Rose had always wanted a Christmas wedding. There was something inconceivably romantic about the idea of getting married in the snow - her wedding would be outdoors, if there was good weather - and gazing around at the snow-dusted trees and people. Maybe a snowman or two to add a country charm to the setting as well.

So when Scorpius had bounced up to her excitedly and told her that he wanted to them to get married in July, it wouldn't have been far off to say that her heart had sunk in her chest and disappointment had stabbed at her. She had almost opened her mouth and said that, no, she wanted a Christmas wedding and that was that. The happy, eager look on his face stopped her in her tracks, though. Rose knew that if she had said to him she wanted a wedding in winter, he would have agreed just because he knew it made her happy. He was always doing that. Sometimes it annoyed her, but on those occasions, realising the reason for her irritation, he would add that her being happy made him happy. Which was the most ridiculously soppy, cheesy, sappy and downright heart-squeezing thing anybody had ever said to her.

Maybe, just maybe, Rose thought, she should return the favour.

Which was why, on the 25th of July, on an unusually bright and sunny summer day, Rose Weasley was walking down the aisle in a posh-looking old church to wed Scorpius Malfoy. Birds chirruped and peeked in at the ongoings through the stained-glass windows. Her father, holding her arm as they walked, wiped vigorously at his eyes to try and erase signs of tears, but only succeeded in making it worse.

When they reached the end of the aisle and Ron let go of her arm with a tearful smile sent her way, Rose turned to look at her fiancé. He shot her a massive smile as though the day really couldn't get any better.

"I prefer you in normal clothes," he whispered gallantly to her, remembering the fuss she had put up when he had told her that she would be having a traditional, church wedding with a traditional white dress - in honour of the Malfoy side of the family.

She shook her head slightly at him, her voice affectionate. "I can't say the same for you - this is the sort of stuff you're always wearing."

He glanced down at his tuxedo and gave her a sheepish smile before the minister said in a deep, formal voice that was supposed to be a whisper but somehow managed to be heard by the people down in the pews as well as the bride and groom. "Are you ready?"

A hushed air of anticipation settled over the people gathered in the pews. Several took out handkerchiefs to wipe their eyes. Somebody blew their nose and Andy Lupin - Teddy and Victoire's daughter - complained in a none too quite manner about how she couldn't see anything that was happening.

Afterwards, though, Rose was surprised that she had noticed any of her surroundings. Her gaze had been fixed on Scorpius, somehow worried that he might back out at the last minute, decide that they should wait longer. Her fists clenched slightly, in a mixture of excitement and worry at the time it was taking him to say 'yes'.

Scorpius's eyes bored into Rose's, the woman that he had gone against his grandfather's will to propose to, the girl who, he had found out later, had not really wanted a summer wedding but had said 'yes' to it because she knew he wanted one, Rose who was essentially his everything. Of course he was ready.

"Yes," he murmured an affirmative, and realised that, more than being ready, he couldn't wait.

Rose let a small smile break out on her face as she gazed at the man in front of her - the one that had been the cause of her walking out on her parents in the middle of an argument for the first time in her life, who had been the reason she had discovered that sometimes she _was_ wrong, the man that she had been willing to let practically organise the day that she had dreamed about organising since she was a girl. For a split second, she felt her gaze wander over to the front pew, where Grandma Jean Granger sat with a small smile on her face although her eyes were faintly red.

_Your choice_, she seemed to say.

And Rose turned back and threw her soon-to-be husband a dazzling smile. "I'm ready."


End file.
